


It’s All Pretty Hopeless, but We Keep on Trying

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Knife Kink, Knifeplay, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, i’ll add more once more chapters are uploaded ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 07:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Plagued by nightmares, you find yourself alone on the docks at Clemens Point until Javier joins you. While sharing your troubled thoughts, Javier feels something he never thought he’d experience again.This series will follow your blooming relationship between you and Javier throughout the harrowing months during the inevitable downfall of the Van der Linde Gang.





	It’s All Pretty Hopeless, but We Keep on Trying

**Author's Note:**

> i have becom...dorty rdr2 trash.,.., pls enjoy..
> 
> also, comment and stuff if ya want ;)

You were sitting on the dock again, feet in the water, neck craned to watch the summer night sky speckled with stars. Your loose hair swayed gently as a breeze swept over the lake, surprisingly cold considering the absolutely horrid heat in the day, yet you were unmoved. Not even a shiver.

Javier felt a rush of pity as your hand swiped under your eye, no doubt wiping away a tear or two. Out of decency and sympathy, no one ever asked what happened before Dutch agreed to let you stay, yet everyone knew anyway. Living in a camp full of eavesdroppers did not grant much privacy.

It was a marvel, really, how well you kept your pain under wraps— a pretty façade of smiles and silly jokes throughout the day to keep everyone fooled. It worked for the most part. Javier had to admit, if he didn't know mental exhaustion like the back of his hand, you would've had him fooled too.

For a moment his thinks he should turn around, go back to bed and leave you to figure out your own demons. Yet something in the way you draw in a shaky breath has his heart aching.

With a sigh, he stepped onto the dock, the wood creaking under his weight. You turned at the sound, your lips curling into a fragile smile. He didn't like the way his heart sped up.

"Hello, Javier."

"Hey," he responded, taking a seat beside you. "It's late, aren't you tired?"

You shrugged and pulled up the collar of your shirt that slipped over your shoulder. "I just needed to clear my head for a bit."

"I could get my guitar if you want," Javier offered up. He still stood by the theory that a good song could cure any broken heart. "Could sing you somethin'."

To his disappointment you turned down his offer with a shy smile. "It ain't worth wastin' your talents on me tonight. 'Sides, it's nice to listen to the crickets and the wind blowin' through the trees."

Pulling your feet out of the lake, you rested your chin on your knee, your eyes sliding shut. He took the moment to study your face, the freckles, the smile lines, and even the shadowed patches underneath your eyes. Familiar yet so much more unique than he once thought. Sure, he'd had plenty of conversations with you before tonight, but he never took the time to truly appreciate how beautiful you were.

As if in a trance, he reached out and trailed a finger along your cheek. Startled, your eyes flicked open, your skin heating with a flush as he dared to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your lopsided grin grew to match his.

"You should get some rest, _hermosa_," Javier murmured, forcing his hand back to his lap instead of tracing your soft skin.

That lovely little smile, like his own personal ray of sunshine, faltered and melted away. With a sigh, your eyes trailed out back to the water. "I—I can't."

Javier bit the inside of his cheek. "Do you...want to talk?"

You shrugged and rubbed at your arm. "It's silly. Just some bad dreams, y'know?"

"Querida, nightmares aren't silly," Javier said, brows furrowing into a worried 'v'. "Especially if they keep you up all night."

Chewing your lip, you shrugged again, refusing to look at him.

Javier said your name, enjoying the way the syllables rolled off his tongue like a prayer. You spared him a glance. "Keepin' that pain bottled up isn't doing you any favors. You can tell me, if you want."

"Do you have a family, Mr. Escuella?" You asked.

Surprised by the sudden question, he shook his head. "Er, no. I mean, _yes_, but not anymore."

"Oh," you said. With that you swallowed and sucked in a shaky breath, your hand delving into your pocket to fish out a lovely golden locket. Flicking it open, your eyes traced over your family's faces before handing it to Javier who promptly studied your family of six standing in front of a farmhouse.

"I was seventeen when we got that picture taken," you smiled. "I remember 'cause my older sister, Harriet, was allowed to leave her room for the afternoon. I was so happy."

You pointed out the tall girl beside your younger self, her features similar but with higher cheekbones and thinner visage. Her expression reminded Javier of those fancy monarchy paintings he saw in a museum once. "Wait. What do you mean she was _allowed_ to leave her room? Was she, like, a vampire or something?"

"_No_," you snorted. "She had Tuberculosis. It was partially why we bought the farm. She, uh, died a year later."

"I'm sorry," he said, wishing he could offer more.

"S'alright," you shrugged, masking the old wound with another smile. "Y'know, she used to play the piano and I'd sit an' listen outside her door—sometimes sing along. When she...when she couldn't play no more I realized she were better off dyin' than bein' in pain. Listenin' to that cough was pure torture."

You paused for a moment then pointed at the young man on your right. He wore a stern expression, out of place on his youthful face. "My brother Warren. He and the ranch hand, Collin Cassidy, would get into all sorts of trouble and somehow I'd always get roped in. Warren ended up workin' for a railroad company after Harriet died. Got in a real big fight with my Momma and Pa and I haven't seen him since."

This time, you frowned, brief anger flickering in your eyes before tracing over the little girl in the front, your arms slung over her shoulders. She looked sweet if not a bit impish. Your gaze softened. "That's Adelia, she was _such_ a pain. I nearly strangled her every other day."

Javier chuckled, reminded of his own little sister. "Was she anything like you?"

"God no," you laughed, shaking your head. "She wouldn't so much as glance at a pile of mud while I'd come home covered from head to toe in it. Adelia much more liked braidin' the horses' hair and makin' flower crowns near the creek."

You finally moved up to your parents. "Momma and Pa. They loved us even if we were worse than Hell itself."

"You look like your mother," Javier commented, bringing the photo closer to his face. "And, you've got your father's eyes."

"Yeah," you murmured. "People always said that."

A comfortable silence filled the space, Javier content with whatever you wanted to tell him. He decided he liked the way you spoke, enjoyed the sound and cadence of your voice. Something he now looked forward to hearing.

"I—" You started, voice wavering suddenly. "I should have been there."

"How do you mean?" Javier asked, tentative despite the curiosity.

"I should have been there when those brutes burned down our farm," you spat, a sudden rush of angry tears spilling down your cheeks. "If I weren't so angry at my momma, then I would have _been_ there. I could've _helped_."

He stayed silent, unfazed by your sudden fury.

Your jaw clenched as your nails tug into your arm so hard that the skin broke, your face drawn into a deep frown. "Did you know that, before they set the house on fire, they took my family out back where the pigs were and shot them from behind? I got there just as they pulled the trigger and killed my little sister."

More tears sprung from your eyes, your bottom lip quivering. "I'm afraid to close my eyes because I know that all I'll see are their face's, their last moments stuck on wonderin' why I never showed up to save them."

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. The least he could do really. "It's not your fault."

"It isn't?" You snarled, venom lacing your words. "If it isn't then-then _why_ do I feel this way? Why do I feel so guilty about being _alive_?"

You looked up at him, eyes wet with tears, your face a cocktail of grief. Guilt, pain, fury, all the familiar emotions Javier felt in a previous life, yet he had no answer for you. He didn't have to say anything as you searched his face for a solution, lips pinching in realization.

"It doesn't end, does it?" You whispered, shoulders visibly slumping. "The pain, the guilt, the weight of it all."

Javier chewed his bottom lip and sighed. "No. But it gets easier over time. You learn how to deal with it, you know?"

He glanced down at your locket, thumbed the delicate metalwork and offered it back. "I've found that it's better to think about the good memories rather than the bad ones."

You swallowed and glanced at the locket in his palm. Instead of taking it, your hand enclosed around his hand, forcing his fingers around the trinket. "Do me a favor and hold on to it for me, would you?"

Before Javier could sputter out a protest, you flashed him a sad smile, keeping your warm hand on his own clammy one. "Please. Keep it. Seein' their faces makes my heart ache worse than a pulled tooth. And.."

"And what?" He urged, enjoying the way your fingers felt over his.

"_And_ you said you didn't have family, so you can borrow mine."

"Querida," he scoffed, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. "I can't take this. It's all you have left of them."

"_Please_," you all but begged, a stray tear rolling down your cheek, then to your chin where it hung for a moment before dripping onto your lap. "I want you to have it."

"But—"

With a dry laugh you cut him off once more. "In twenty years, when we're old and you've got your own family with your own pictures, come find me. When you do, you can give it back. Okay?"

He hadn't the heart to argue. "Okay."

"Thank you."

Suddenly, your soft lips brushed against his cheek and planted a gentle kiss over his scar. Before he could process, let alone tug you back to give you a proper kiss, you were already halfway down the dock.

Javier pressed his fingers to his cheek, a giddy smile tugging at his lips. He’d be talking to you a lot more from now on.


End file.
